Dutch Courage
by D.KONE
Summary: Dutch courage: Courage gained from intoxication by alcohol. Yes, Iceland, being even slightly drunk with your brother's not-so-drunk boyfriend isn't probably that good an idea.


**WARNING: The author of the story has a disturbing lack of morals and sanity. **

**Disclaimer: This site's called _Fan_fiction dot net, people.**

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'D-Denmark?'

'Hm, Ice?'

'I don't think this is a good idea…'

'Hey, you said you wanted it.'

'Yes, but-'

'No buts. You're not a kid any more, kiddo. It's high time you start letting go of your inhibitions, don't you think?'

'But this feels so wrong.'

'You know you want it.'

'I do, but… I'm scared.'

'Shhh, don't be. I'll be slow and gentle, I promise.'

'Oniichan will be mad at you.'

'Like I care.'

'He'll be mad at me.'

'He won't find out.'

'If he does?'

'He won't. Whatever happens here, tonight, will be a secret between you and me.'

'…'

'Look into my eyes, Ice. I'm not telling anyone. You're not telling anyone. This will be _our_ little secret, got it?'

'Forever.'

Denmark laughed his loud, carefree laugh. 'Hey, you wanna know something funny?'

'Uh huh.'

'I did Sve five times once. In seven hours!'

'That's…_wow.'_

'I know, right?'

'So, it's like your hobby?'

'Yeah, you can say so. Nor is a bit…eh…reluctant about this, so I turn to other sources of distraction, if you get what I mean.'

'…'

'…'

'This will be my first, Denmark.'

'I know. Now come on, I'm ready, take it off, please.'

'Y-Yes.'

'Oh my~ That's a nice body you got there.'

'He-Hey! Denmark! What the-'

'Calm down, I know what I'm doing. It'll help you relax.'

'Mmmm…'

'Feels good, nej?'

'Your fingers are freezi-_ Denmark._'

'Damn, you're like an adolescent schoolgirl, aren't you?'

'What? I'm ticklish there, you – _ah – _that was…'

'So, you wanna go _all_ the way?'

'_Yes_.'

'Is that you speaking or the alcohol?'

'Both.'

'Ah, I see. Dutch courage, eh?'

'Dutch courage it is.'

'Cheers to Dutch courage, then.'

'Thank beer for Go- Thank God for beer. You – why did you stop?'

'I'm tired of all this playing about. Let's get down to business, shall we? I don't have all night.'

'Oh, okay.'

There was a sound of something unzipping.

'I want you to meet this handsome baby here. His name's Mathias.'

'_Mathias_?'

'I named him after myself…what?'

'It's a bit…'

'You wanna touch?'

'I- '

'It's no biggie. Come on …yes…_yes_…that's it…slowly…don't worry, he's not gonna bite. Yet. He's my pride and joy and – _oops, _careful!'

'Shi – Sorry, I have never done anything like this, ever.'

' Nah, don't sweat it. I'm starting. All you have to do is relax. It may ache a bit in the morning, but that's a mere bagatelle.'

'Can I hold your hand? Please?'

'I think it'll be easier if you get down on all fours on the bed and…uh, grab the pillow?'

'Be gentle with me, Denmark.'

'Hey, I promised that to you in the beginning. Don't worry.'

'Wh-'

'_Shhh_. Relax.'

'I'm trying to - ….unh…fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck,_'

'Shush, someone will hear us.'

'I…hnnng…can't help it…'

'…'

'Take it out, take it out!'

'Aw, I've already gone in. Just bear with me – ah.'

'Oh…not there, not there, oh God, please…this-'

'Shut up, Ice.'

'Denmark, please, I beg of you…'

'Yes?'

'_Mm…_faster, dammit, faster.'

'You wanted slow and gentle, but I personally prefer-'

'Just get _on_ with it, you oaf.'

'As you wish, _Master._'

'Huh…huh…ow! Ungh…FUCK!'

'_Language_, kiddo.'

'Uhnnn…ky-ah! I…_Denmaarrrk_…you…'

Denmark stood up and ran his eyes over Iceland. 'Oh my~ Look at you, all sweaty and flushed. How cute!'

Iceland collapsed on the now messy sheets of his bed and took in a deep, shaky breath. 'No comments.'

'Well, I'm done.'

'Already?'

'Yeah. Congratulations, Ice! You just got yourself a tattoo!' He said with a "thumbs up" sign.

'Thanks, Den.' Iceland said and looked over his shoulder at the small puffin tattooed on the small of his back. 'Sweet!'

'I know, right? And you're welcome!'

'Call me if you ever want another one.' Denmark put his instruments in the bag lying on the floor and zipped it. 'Mathias here would love to work on you again. But I have to say – those were very pretty noises you were making~'

Iceland blushed. "I'm sensitive, okay?'

'But they were not as pretty as Nor's! You should hear him go like he goes! Maybe I'll record it the next time we have sex…' He trailed off, his eyes going blank and glassy probably because they were busy looking at the not-so-clean memories playing inside the Dane's head.

The white haired teenager coughed. 'No, thanks. But there is something I'm curious about.'

'Yeah?'

'Sweden. I've never seen any of his.'

'His what?'

'His five tattoos.'

'He doesn't have – oh. You mean the five times in seven hours thing?'

'Yes. So, where _are_ they?'

Denmark simply winked and walked out of the door, leaving Iceland strangely self-conscious about himself.

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